


The Strength of an Army

by Suguru_Slut



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Boners, Band Fic, Boys In Love, Childhood, Children, Coitus Interruptus, Cooking, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Husbands, Implied Mpreg, Kissing, Laughter, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Making Out, Marriage, Married Life, Musicians, Napping, Parent-Child Relationship, Parenthood, Sleeping Together, Sleepovers, Slice of Life, Storms, Watching Someone Sleep, fucking cute ass kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:15:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27460309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suguru_Slut/pseuds/Suguru_Slut
Summary: Ushijima and his husband Bokuto spend some special time together on a lazy Saturday morning...well, at least they try to. Three energetic children have a different idea, which leads to the entire family making breakfast together.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 16
Kudos: 57





	The Strength of an Army

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kotaro_kun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kotaro_kun/gifts).



> ~~happy happy birthday, kotaro-kun!!! here's some ushi x bo fluff for you

_"The strength of a family, like the strength of an army, lies in its loyalty to each other.”_

_― Mario Puzo_

It had been a long, tiring week for Ushijima; he was out of the country for three days to help with a collegiate volleyball training camp and spent the next few days practicing nine-plus hours for next week’s big tournament. Saturday was the only day he had off, with a morning practice tomorrow, then back to extensive training in the city all week. Today was the only day he could sleep-in, have a normal schedule, a lazy day to spend having fun with the children and Bokuto—well, at least the last two options. At six-thirty, Ushijima could feel his husband stir, shifting on his side, momentarily allowing sunlight pooling in through the window to glide across Wakatoshi’s face, which woke him up completely and ended any chance he had of sleeping-in.

The pro volleyball player peeked an eye open ever-so-slightly, not enough for Bokuto to realize he was being watched as he snorted in amusement.

“This guy,” Koutarou snickered, running a gentle finger along Ushijima’s cheekbone. “How can he sleep like such a baby?”

Bokuto’s hair was always wild in the morning (a trait he gave to their children), flatter, tangled, messy and downright adorable. Ushijima was still exhausted, but silently admired his husband for a long moment, waiting until the other man turned away before replying.

“Because we _have_ babies.”

Wakatoshi laughed lowly when Koutarou nearly jumped right out of bed in surprise, yelping and looking wildly over at where Ushijima lay. The taller man now had a sly smile on his lips, eagle eyes widening to reveal their shimmering hue; Bokuto wanted to smack him, but only resisted because he was momentarily hypnotized by that pretty, sleepy gaze. It seemed so long ago that he had the honor of seeing that particular look, what with how busy Wakatoshi had been with volleyball lately. He was proud of his husband, of course, but did enjoy having him home, even for only one day.

“You—You’re awake!” Koutarou said wildly, heart still racing. “You scared the hell out of me! What were you doing, listening to me talk to myself? Perv!”

Bokuto turned away in fake annoyance, swinging his legs off the bed and still unaware that Ushijima was appreciating his toned back, the small tattoo of enjoined wings with their wedding anniversary printed above right below Koutarou’s shoulder blade. He missed waking-up to this sight: during the week, Bokuto got up early to prepare the kids’ meals for the day and get a load of laundry done, but usually Ushijima’s workouts called for him to wake even earlier than that. Today, it was Wakatoshi’s turn to admire, which he did from a closer distance by sitting up and wrapping his arms around Bokuto, keeping him trapped on the bed.

“I don’t see anything wrong with that…”

Ushijima made certain his husband stayed in place by pressing his lips against Koutarou’s exposed throat, mouthing with the intent to seduce and claim. Bokuto inhaled sharply, grabbing at Ushijima’s tensed forearms, though he didn’t pull him off or dissuade the wing spiker’s intentions (Wakatoshi knew Bokuto could easily beat him in arm wrestling, which was also how he knew his husband secretly wanted him to continue by not forcibly removing him.) There was little time for intimacy, what with Ushijima’s erratic schedule, which accounted for how quickly Bokuto’s muscles relaxed at the simplest touch.

“Well, I do!” Koutarou tried to claim, voice sounding strange as Ushijima continuously inched higher and higher with his kisses. “Besides, you’re the one who left the curtain open—you’re the only reason I woke up this early in the first place!”

“Perhaps we should take advantage of the one day a week you get up this early, then,” Ushijima laughed lowly, tickling Koutarou’s skin. “Will you allow me to apologize in the most sincerest form?”

That finally got Bokuto to grin. He turned around and quickly pinned Wakatoshi to the mattress, both men smiling into what seemed like their first real kiss this week; despite Ushijima’s physical and mental fatigue, he allowed his husband to take things further, groaning quietly when Bokuto’s groin found its way up against the volleyball player’s. Even though it had only been a few seconds, Wakatoshi was already annoyed by the sweatpants separating them, hands greedily reaching for any bare skin he could find. His fingertips hungrily ran over Koutarou’s sides, trying to remember each curve and mark, an unknown feeling to Ushijima as of late.

“When’s the last time we did this?” Wakatoshi asked breathlessly, eyebrows scrunched in concentration as Bokuto momentarily pulled away.

“Maybe a month?” Koutarou guessed. He _so_ just wanted to devour Ushijima right then and there, all warm and cuddly in his sleepy state…but that might have resulted in another kid, so he had to be patient enough to snatch a condom from the nightstand a little bit later. “I honestly can’t remember.”

“I’m sorry…I’ve been away a lot, lately.”

Bokuto gave him a bright smile, much too bright given how early it was, making Wakatoshi’s heart skip a few beats when his husband leaned down, lips hovering above his own teasingly.

“How ‘bout you make it up to me now, superstar?”

Ushijima’s lips quirked, a mischievous smile only Bokuto knew about, pulling Koutarou down into a passionate kiss that lit a fire in both their stomachs. It already felt so good to feel each other again, after only sharing fleeting moments the past few weeks, distracted by volleyball games, practice and the kids, of course, yelling and causing mayhem wherever they went…Wakatoshi felt all the tension and stress leaving his body for the first time in a while. Bokuto must have felt the same, moaning quietly into their kiss before his sneaky hands found their way to Ushijima’s clothed crotch—

 _“Hehe!”_ A tiny voice suddenly giggled outside their bedroom door. _“Let’s wake mommy and daddy up!”_

 _“Yeah!”_ Another agreed.

Koutarou huffed out a frustrated groan, opening his eyes to meet Ushijima’s; they didn’t have to say anything to understand, Bokuto collapsing dejectedly onto his husband’s chest as the door was quietly pushed open. Wakatoshi hid his disappointment behind a sleepy smile, closing his eyes and pretending he was asleep while tiny footsteps inched closer and closer to their bed. Someone was being shushed, and then a countdown began.

“One…two…!”

Before they could finish, Bokuto reached out and snatched his oldest child from the floor, pulling them into the bed as Ushijima kidnapped the other, earning loud, screeching squeals of surprise.

“Gotcha!” Koutarou cheered.

“Eeeep!!!”

Semi laughed in his father’s arms, rolling around and desperately trying to break free from Koutarou’s strong grip—he was their oldest boy at five-years, the ringleader of their little gang and the best big brother ever, according to the other two. An early riser and lover of all things music, it was no surprise that he was the one to interrupt his parents. Bokuto held onto his first born tightly, glancing over gleefully at where Ushijima trapped Keiji (now four) against his chest while planting kisses onto the boy’s messy black locks. Keiji laughed sweetly, unable to lean away from the kisses and finally relenting when Wakatoshi rolled them on their side so they could face Bokuto and Semi.

“Good morning,” Ushijima greeted fondly as Koutarou kissed each of their boys on the cheek. “How did you sleep?”

“Great!” Semi answered with a smile. “But we’re _starving_ , Dad!”

“You are, hm? I’ll need to put you on the scale to confirm that.”

“Hehe! We’re not _actually_ starving, but it feels like we are because we’re so hungry! Right, Keiji?”

“Mhm!” The younger nodded. He always agreed with Semi. “Do you always cuddle like that when you sleep together?”

Ushijima did his famous poker-face and shared a questionable look with his husband.

“Um…totally!” Bokuto laughed off, tickling Semi’s side playfully. “You two could cuddle, too, if you didn’t have bunkbeds.”

“Maybe we can share the top bunk, Keiji!”

Semi launched into a vibrant discussion about how fun it would be to share beds with his little brother, Bokuto listening intently and offering pieces of advice for how best to sleep next to a snoring person. Ushijima relaxed against his hand, slouching into the nearest pillow and just watched quietly. Keiji was kneeling in the middle of the bed, now, eagerly adding his input to the conversation and vibrating with excitement much like his mother did. The sun rose higher and higher with each passing minute, glowing around the domestic scene like a bright halo. These were the little things Ushijima really missed—he loved his job, loved being able to play volleyball for a living, and of course Koutarou still enjoyed watching his husband play the game they both loved, but lately it was easy to fantasize about retiring and spending every day with his family, just like this.

Semi and Keiji were growing more independent, developing their own colorful personalities and preferences for certain things like music and puzzles. Goshiki, their youngest child, was right along beside them, guided by his older brothers and driven by Bokuto’s enthusiasm. Wakatoshi wished he had all the time in the world to do both things he loved equally, but knew that was impossible. So, while Ushijima was here with his family for a day, he decided to not think, but live completely in the moment. As the volleyball player watched his sons and husband, his brain took mental pictures to review when he missed them the most.

“Daddy, you need to shave,” Keiji pointed out, reaching up to touch Bokuto’s stubble. “Can I help?”

“Sure! But first, I think it’s about time we got your brother up and had breakfast! What do you think?”

“BREAKFAST TIME!!!” Semi shouted happily. “Come on, Keiji, let’s go!”

Semi grabbed his brother’s hand and drug him off the bed, hurrying towards the kitchen and leaving Koutarou to sigh heavily, though he had a smile on his lips as he and Ushijima rolled out of bed. Maybe that was because Wakatoshi didn’t have a shirt on, just low-rise sweatpants hanging off his hips and exposing his delicious ab muscles. All those days practicing had certainly paid off…which was even more disappointing, because Bokuto _really_ wanted to be closer to those abs so he could admire them properly.

“What should we make for them?” Wakatoshi asked, pulling a t-shirt on and depriving Koutarou of his view. “I believe we have some fruit in the fridge…we could make something with tho—!”

A sharp pinch to Ushijima’s butt cut his recommendation off, and he threw a wild look at Bokuto as he grinned suggestively and walked past him.

“I’ll see you here _later_ , mister.”

Bokuto giggled like his children and hurried away, Ushijima rolling his eyes and stepping into the bathroom before he joined his family. He rinsed his face with warm water, patting his skin dry with one of Bokuto’s favorite towels: looking in the mirror now, Wakatoshi wondered if he was getting old—parenting had taken its toll, but there were no premature wrinkles or dark circles underneath his eyes…well, at least not ones caused by chasing the boys around all the time. He did look a little tired, a little older, face stiffer and less youthful than his high school days, although his body had never been in better shape. What did Bokuto see when he looked at his husband? Ushijima hoped he wasn’t earning pity from Koutarou. If anyone needed to be pitied, it was Bokuto, who took care of their children every single day and night, regardless of whether or not Ushijima was home.

The volleyball star looked at himself for another moment, then shook his head and entered the kitchen.

Semi and Keiji were fighting over who would get to cut the bananas, how small to cut them, etc. etc. They were tugging and pushing each other away, but their tiny smiles told Ushijima they weren’t really irritated. Their duo stood right beneath Bokuto as he held their youngest boy, Goshiki, who still looked grumpy from being woken and had an amusing expression on his round face; his hair was everywhere, bangs mushed to his forehead, stray strands flying left and right. The atmosphere already felt chaotic, but Ushijima liked it. All his boys were here, together, ready for another day of fun and family time. Koutarou noticed Wakatoshi standing to the side and eagerly nodded him over.

“Come on, babe! We’re making banana pancakes and having a milk-chugging contest!”

“I don’t want bananas in mine, please.”

“Gah! You’re as picky as the kids!”

Ushijima laughed lowly, snatching the knife off the counter so Semi couldn’t grab it and switched objects with his husband, who handed Goshiki off so he could help the older boys cut the bananas. Within a few minutes there were cracked eggs, pancake flour and smushed bananas everywhere, and some had even made it to the children’s hair—Wakatoshi did his best to keep everything under control, although Bokuto wasn’t helping much by riling the boys up with obnoxious singing. About bananas. At seven in the morning. And he was horribly off-tune.

_“B, bananas, B! a-n-a-n-a-s!”_

_“This stuff is bananas, B! a-n-a-n-a-s!”_ Semi and Keiji joined in. “You sing, now, Daddy!”

“No thank you,” The ace declined.

“Aww, come on, Ushi!” Koutarou pleaded, stirring the batter and oblivious to how much he was spilling. “Do it for the kids!”

Keiji, Semi and even Goshiki, held snugly in Ushijima’s arms looked up at him with big puppy eyes, excitedly waiting for their father to continue the song. It was so hard to resist such hopeful gazes, especially Goshiki’s, what with his deep brown eyes so wide and innocent, like his heart would be crushed if Wakatoshi didn’t sing along. Normally during their jam sessions Ushijima was the keyboard player and stuck to singing background lyrics under his breath, but he couldn’t refuse their request now, glancing away from the stares and clearing his throat.

“…This stuff is bananas, b-a-n-a-n-a-s.”

Semi (and everyone else) immediately burst into laughter, grabbing their stomachs in agony at Ushijima’s level, emotionless singing voice. Keiji tried to hide his amusement, covering his mouth but failing to muffle his giggles while Goshiki nearly fell out of his father’s arms at how hard he was laughing. Wakatoshi smiled to himself, listening as the wonderful noises echoed through their kitchen, Bokuto’s being the loudest—he tried not to ever laugh at his husband, but sometimes it was just too difficult. This fit of laughter allowed Ushijima a minute for preparation, heating the griddle up and grabbing a ladle to evenly spread the pancake batter out. Every boy took their turn (once they stopped laughing), shifting into focus mode so their strangely-shaped pancakes would be just right.

The space seemed much too small for this project, everyone bumping into each other, elbows clashing and silverware nearly dropped on the floor every other second, but eventually their stack of banana pancakes was complete, and once Semi and Keiji set the table, they all sat down together for what seemed like the first time in weeks. Bokuto held Goshiki on his lap while Ushijima poured five glasses of chocolate milk, everyone saying their thanks before diving into the heaps of syrup and mushed bananas.

“So, lovely children,” Bokuto addressed after sneaking his first bite. “What fun stuff should we do today?”

Keiji and Goshiki were busy stuffing their faces, so Semi quickly raised his hand to speak.

“Yes, Semi?” Wakatoshi nodded.

“I wanna rock!”

_“Pft!”_

“Okay,” Ushijima nodded slowly. They were already in for a _very_ loud Saturday. “We can do that…Keiji? What would you like to do?”

“Hmm,” The black-haired boy pondered over his bite of banana. “May we take a walk together? To the park?”

“That sounds nice.”

“And what say you, Goshiki?” Bokuto teased, poking the two-year-old’s side and watching him squirm happily. “What else should we do for fun today?”

The table went silent for a minute, everyone watching as Goshiki furrowed his brow, gathering fun ideas inside his little head; Ushijima raised an eyebrow when his youngest suddenly grinned, cheeks puffing out into an adorable smile.

“Poop?”

“Goshiiiii,” Semi laughed, palming his head as the rest of his family members shook their heads. “We do that _every_ day!”

“Not _every_ day,” Keiji corrected. “We poop less than Goshi-chan caus’ he’s a baby.”

“M’not a baby!” Goshiki argued, holding his fingers up. “I’m two! Babies aren’t two!”

“Alright, alright—everyone eat their weight in pancakes so we have enough energy for our day!” Bokuto said cheerfully, desperately glancing around the table for his coffee. He couldn’t see it amongst the mess, sighing in relief when Ushijima finally slid the mug in his direction. “Thanks, babe.”

“You’re welcome.”

Koutarou was oblivious to his husband’s stares, too busy sipping caffeine in-between helping Goshiki cut his pancakes and nibbling on his own breakfast. Semi had the least amount of mess in his area, eating the bananas stacked on top with his sticky little fingers, which Keiji copied with enthusiasm; the middle boy’s pale cheeks were coated in syrup, as was the table in front of him, and every piece of silverware and napkin in reach. Chocolate milk splatters were rarer but still present, dripping down the sides of cups and Goshiki’s lip, even though Bokuto was helping him. Later on, Ushijima knew the living room would be a total mess, musical instruments scattered around, broken toys in danger of being stepped on, loud noises filling the entire house, and someone would probably be crying…

“What are you smiling about, Dad?” Semi asked curiously. “Are the pancakes really that great?”

Keiji, Goshiki and Bokuto all looked over, sticky faces, innocent expressions, peaceful auras, and the volleyball star snapped a mental picture to look at another day.

“Yes,” Ushijima agreed whole-heartedly. “They’re really that great.”

**Author's Note:**

> ushi is an underrated baby, that is all


End file.
